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Dean hated the spring. It was the season of mud, of cold rains still bitter with winter's chill. Give him the thunderstorms of the summer, falling in dense sheets across fields of green grain, any day.
He swore as one of his legs slid out, and he nearly went to his knees, fighting to keep his sword level. His boots were barely finding traction in the slick mud. Wet streaks of it had long since caked their skins and his trousers. The leather hat he wore was keeping the worst of the rain out of his eyes at least, although it was soaked through clear to his scalp. He squinted out past its wide brim, through the forest, still skeletal but for the faint dusting of spring buds.
Sam was somewhere to the west of him, circling around the other side of the area. While the arrival of spring had sent the cold horrors of winter back to sleep, the rains seemed to have awakened something new in its place. A group of hunters had gone into the forest several days ago, and only one of the four men had returned to their village. He was badly wounded, but he reported they had encountered a pack of wolves that seemed abnormally cunning and fierce, led by a mutated and strange creature. The survivor had been killed a few days later, before Sam and Dean arrived to deal with him, slashed by large claws, head torn off. It had happened right inside his home, at night, no one in the village the wiser until a neighbor went to check on him the following day. Every night since, more had died, both animals and people. Whatever the hunters had encountered didn't seem inclined to leave the village alone.
So Dean stomped through the muck, eyes peeled for wolf tracks. The rain showed no sign of letting up, and it was better to at least have the light of day to work in. The sooner they found this thing and killed it, the sooner he could go change into some dry clothes and sit by a fire.
A chill ran down his spine that wasn't from the rain. Dean gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and glanced around. He thought he heard padding movement, but the pelting slaps of water made the forest a wash of noise that made it difficult to pinpoint direction. A short huff, too close, had him spinning around just in time for a large wolf to slam into him. The blade of his sword, caught between their bodies, was the only thing that kept the wolf from tearing into his neck as he twisted his face away from his reeking jaws. There wasn't anything strange or demonic about the creature. Its pale eyes were just those of a wolf. It snapped and growled as Dean flipped it off him, and there were answering snarls behind him.
"Guess I found the pack," he muttered, getting his legs under him. "Now, where's your master…"
A quick look around counted three other wolves converging on him. Too many… he thought before bellowing, "SAM!"
"Dean?"
His brother's answer filtered through over the rain, making it clear he was at a distance. Dean tensed and grimly tried to keep all the circling wolves in view, pulling his dagger from his belt to arm both hands.
As they charged, his world condensed down to a spinning vortex of slashing movement and flashing teeth and eyes. He fought to deliver deep wounds while keeping one of them from hamstringing him, blocking with the sword blade edge and jabbing the dagger when he saw a tender opening. There were at least a few squeals of pain, but the animals were fast, darting in and out as they ringed him in. Finally, one went down in a spray of blood as he gashed its neck. He paid for it though, as one's jaws found his thigh, just above the knee. He let out a yelp and bashed the hilt of his dagger down on its nose. It glared and tightened its grip until Dean repeated the action with more conviction. There was a satisfying crunch that time, and the wolf snorted out a spray of blood onto his pants as it released him.
Pounding footsteps and two of the remaining wolves turning their gazes away marked Sam's arrival. He screamed a challenge and slashed broad strokes with his blade, breaking through to Dean easily as the wolves dodged his blows. Sam put his shoulder to Dean's, turning one eye behind them even as he glanced Dean over.
"You all right?"
Dean nodded, ignoring the bite on his leg. Nothing was gushing, so there would be time to deal with it later. "Yeah. You see the leader anywhere?"
A roar answered that question, and the brothers both turned. The creature approaching through the rain wasn't like anything Dean had ever seen. They'd thought they were dealing with a feral werewolf maybe, but the thing lumbering toward them was gray skinned, with hard, serrated jaws and gleaming yellow eyes, six of them. The talons on its front legs—or were those arms?—looked formidable. It roared again, and the three wolves still standing widened their arc to include it.
There was a pause as the two groups sized each other up, then the beast bolted forward with pounding steps that seemed too loud for its size. Dean and Sam stepped out to flank it and swung blades. The creature stood and swung its claws in return. Sam ducked away, but Dean was caught across the chest and lifted off the ground, slamming down into the mud a few feet away. The thing was strong , whatever it was. It turned toward him, and as Sam swung at it again, there was a clang and spark. Its skin shimmered.
"What the…" Sam exclaimed, looking from his sword to the creature. "It's metal!"
Dean kicked at one of the wolves that had darted forward and drove it back with a few swings of his sword as he got to his feet again, sleeves and tunic heavy with mud. He was pretty sure the limb that had struck him hadn't been metal.
Sam called out a spell, raising his hand. The side of the creature nearest to him glowed hot orange as its skin heated up. It spun on Sam in rage and slammed him down. At his brother's shout of pain, Dean ran forward, bringing up his own hand and speaking the words that would bring the fire spell on his bracelet to life. The creature's skin shimmered again just as the flames reached it, and it went alight, causing Sam to scream as it seared his leg. The creature growled at Dean, the fire not fazing it at all as it debated between him and Sam. Dean yelled and swung his sword at it instead, and this time the blade opened a gash on its back. The fire coating it winked out as its skin shimmered again. Jaws snapped, nearly taking Dean's arm, and he slashed at it. This time the blade skittered uselessly off its face, and he barely managed to spin out of reach as it tried again to bite him.
"What the hell…" Dean stumbled back.
Sam had rolled away and to his feet, and he met Dean's eyes over the creature's back. Dean could tell only half of Sam's attention was on him, his brother's eyes slightly unfocused as he tried to make sense of the battle.
"It's adapting!" he yelled after a moment, circling around to remain opposite to Dean. "To whatever we hit it with!"
Dean replayed the last few moments. Yeah, that would explain it. What now? He jerked his chin at Sam. "You do fire, I do metal?"
Sam nodded and raised his hand again with the heating spell. The beast shuddered and shimmered with a roar as it started gleaming orange again. Dean tried to rush it but was intercepted by the wolves, sensing their leader needed their help this time. He let out a cry of aggravation as he slashed at them. Sam yelled wordlessly behind him, but it didn't sound too dire, so Dean concentrated on the wolves, chasing one down with a stab to the back that left it gurgling. A second darted in and nearly had the back of his leg before he slammed down on his knees and lashed out with his dagger. It didn't move quick enough, and he pierced its shoulder before it retreated.
There was a creaking of branches, and Dean gaped as one of the surrounding trees suddenly bent over, lashing down with its branches. The wolves bolted as their leader raised a roar of protest. The boughs slapping down on it didn't seem to be having much effect, but it distracted the beast from Sam, allowing the other Winchester to limp to his feet. Its skin shimmered again.
"Now, Sam! Fire!"
A new voice echoed across the clearing. Sam only blinked once before raising his hands. Dean joined him, bringing up his fist and activating the fire bracelet once more. There was a screaming howl from the creature, and this time, when it burst into flame, fire seared it deeply, causing it to stumble down. Dean recognized the opening and leapt forward bringing up his sword for a deep stab through its ribs, down toward where there should be something vital. There was a slight resistance as the blade sunk through, and the creature shuddered and flailed. He'd hit something . He yanked the blade out with some effort, readying for another blow.
It wasn't necessary. The beast coughed a few times, made a failed attempt to rise, then collapsed. Sam's sword pierced it from the other side, finishing it. Only when it was still, its eyes blankly staring up at the sky, did Dean turn away.
The wolves were nowhere in sight. Castiel stood a distance away, vivid blue eyes fixed on Dean. His dark hair was soaked with rain and plastered to his head. The wreath of vines across his brow was as bare as the forest, only the tiny reddish buds scattered along it hinting at the power that lived beneath. Although the druid's heavy cloak was repelling most of the rain away from him, Dean could see his shoulders moving with labored breaths.
"Castiel," Sam panted, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes away from Dean. "Thanks for the assistance."
"I thought you were still hibernating," Dean said, trying to catch his breath.
Castiel nodded at Sam, and narrowed his eyes at Dean briefly, before approaching, furrowing his brow at the creature on the ground between them.
Sam motioned at it with one hand, the other clutching one bent knee, stabilizing it. "Do you know what this thing is?"
"It's a render," Castiel said. "A young one."
"You telling me this thing was a baby ?" Dean looked over the charred form.
"If it were an adult, you'd both be dead." Castiel frowned. "They are very protective of their young… Let's hope the parent is not nearby."
"You knew about the skin changing…" Sam made to move around to join them but winced on the first step and stopped. "Have you fought one before?"
"Every so often, they show up. It's the right habitat for them, especially with the nearby swamps. Usually, they aren't dangerous once they've befriended another creature. You must have riled this one up by attacking its wolf pack."
Dean shook his head. "Hunters tangled with it days ago, drew it back to their village… It was already plenty riled when we got here."
"Unfortunate. Once they get that way, there's no stopping them. They are extremely destructive."
"No joke."
Sam looked around, and Dean knew he was trying to figure out how to bind his leg for travel. Dean's own leg was starting to throb now that the rush of battle was wearing off. Castiel, he noticed, was still breathing hard.
"You okay?"
The druid nodded and straightened his shoulders. "I am still feeling a bit sluggish this early in spring… But it's time to get back to work."
"...You got a place to go around here?" Dean thought of the warm, dry lodgings back in the village but discarded the idea almost immediately. Castiel would never leave the woods in his weaker state.
With a nod, Castiel started walking. "Follow me."
Dean went to Sam, forcing himself not to limp as he drew up next to his brother and lowered his shoulder to tuck himself under Sam's arm and grasp his waist. When Sam gave him a nod of confirmation, they started after Castiel, lurching along in the rain.
All was calm now, not even a bird calling, and only the squelch of their boots in the mud and the occasional grunt of effort interrupted the steady patter of raindrops. Dean shivered and tried to still it, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam's hazel eyes fix on his face questioningly.
"Damned rain could be a bit harder, huh?" Dean observed, turning his eyes up to the cold water dripping off the edges of his hat brim.
Sam snorted and nodded, making water splash off his own hat in the process. "Yeah. Also, it's a bit too warm."
The breeze picked up a moment before the rainfall increased its tempo, transforming into a dense curtain of water that immediately seemed to find its way down Dean's collar. Of course.
"Hope this place isn't far, Cas," Dean shouted over the noise. The druid didn't glance back, but there was a slight shake of his head that Dean could easily interpret as an eye roll. He muttered to himself, "Gods, I hate spring…"